


Infinite Tomorrows

by captainnperfecthair



Category: Black Sails
Genre: BECAUSE GOD IS GOOD, FlintHamilton, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, THOMAS LIVES AU THAT'S NOT AN AU ANYMORE, Thomas and James are happy and in love, cause I'm not about that, free the gays!, gays strolling happily off into the proverbial sunset, only AU if canon is meant to be interpretted as James being a prisoner too, still some angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainnperfecthair/pseuds/captainnperfecthair
Summary: With enough gold presented to the proprietor of the labor camp courtesy of John Silver, Thomas Hamilton is free to leave with his lover and begin his life anew. The first hours they spend together, however, still leaves them with several difficult conversations to have. James, naturally, wants to apologize for everything and wonders how Thomas will ever forgive him. Thomas wants to reassure him that no matter James' past, this is their chance to start fresh and leave that past behind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HOW BOUT THAT FINALE, HUH? Everything I could've asked for, really. 'Cept poor John. He didn't quite get a happy ending. 
> 
> Anyways, I've of the mindset that the hefty bag of coin Hands and Gunn handed over to the people at the camp was enough to buy Thomas' freedom and they run off together to live a quiet, simple life with a garden and a personal library in a house by the sea somewhere.

The amount of coin John Silver gifted to the proprietor of the labor camp was staggering, and enough to make the man turn a blind eye as James took his love’s hand and led him out of the place at last, ready to resume his life as James McGraw.

 

A few miles’ walk out, they manage to intercept a carriage heading into the nearest town and with the few coin he has left--a far cry to the riches he had held in his possession just a few mere months ago on an uncharted island in the Bahamas--James buys them passage and then a room in one of the inns there. 

 

When James finally shuts the door behind him, Thomas is sitting on the bed patiently waiting, but James can see the questions in his eyes. He knows that searching look in those long-missed blue eyes of his; still knows how to read the man for all the years that have held them apart from one another.

 

They’ve spoken little since they reunited in the fields at the prison, most of their communication being non-verbal--touches, glances, kisses, embraces. James is afraid of the conversation that is surely coming, as he’s unsure as to how Thomas will react to all that he has to reveal, but as much as he’s dreading it he wants it to happen. There’s no need for him to be concerned about Thomas knowing his secrets. Captain James Flint was the man wary of secrets, of being exposed, of his story being known and potentially retold to others.

 

Thomas, who still clearly knows him all too well and senses his unease, smiles reassuringly at him when James meets his gaze. James feels the tension in his body soften a bit. He can’t help but reflexively smile back, heartbeat thudding in his chest and warmth blossoming beneath it at seeing Thomas’s smile; at the mere fact that seeing Thomas smile and knowing that smile is all for him is once again a possibility. His dreams and hopes in his darkest days of being granted one last chance to see Thomas Hamilton and have him smile like that at him one last time can now happen an infinite number of more times. No ‘one smile more,’ no ‘one kiss more.’ The universe has seen it fit to grant James McGraw an infinite number of once mores. He intends to have his fill and then some.

 

“God, I thought I’d never see that smile again,” he breathes with wonder, stepping further into the room.

 

“I would never cease to wear it were it not for the protestations of my facial muscles after the strain on them a prolonged retention of it would cause,” Thomas says with a laugh. “Anything that pleases you, my love,” he adds softly, reaching out for James’ hand and tugging him over to the bed. James sits down beside him and Thomas reaches up to cup a hand on his cheek.

 

“I thought I’d lost all rights to any sort of joy or pleasure left in this world after all that I have done these past ten years,” James answers, throat tight. He reaches up, taking hold of Thomas’s hand on his cheek and squeezing, hoping to give himself strength.

 

“I cannot imagine there was ever a thing you have done that would warrant such a punishment. Miranda would say that your penitence alone absolves you, and you know that I have never been the faithful sort, but I do believe that one’s sins may be forgiven if they show contrition. Whatever you have done, my love, you are forgiven.” Thomas pulls their hands towards him and kisses the back of James’, sending a warm, fluttering jolt through his stomach and prickling the skin of his hand and up his arm in a pleasant and distantly familiar way. God, he’s so missed Thomas’s touch. His comforting presence. 

 

“You’ve no idea what I’ve done, Thomas,” he insists through the haze of all this love and warmth. He feels unclean, muddied by the violence he has committed in Thomas’ own name--sweet, gentle Thomas’s name.

 

“I don’t care, James. Look at me, darling,” he says, pausing until James meets his eyes, “I don’t care,” he murmurs, but the conviction in his voice is clear. His eyes are bright and sharp, pointedly adding credence to his words in a fierce attempt to brush away the guilt and shame that James feels. “You’re here, you’re sorry, and you’re putting it all past you now.” He runs his hands over James’ bristled hair and down his neck before clasping themselves together around the base of it. His thumbs rub little circles behind his ear. James feels his breathing slow, his body relaxing slightly. “If you choose to tell me, I will think of you no differently. And if you choose not to, I will think of you no differently, either. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid,” he says, adding the last bit to lighten the mood a little with a small smile.

 

“I’m sorry,” James says, ignoring the attempt at levity and casting his eyes away from his love. “I’m so very sorry, Thomas.”

 

“Good God, there’s no need!” he says with a huff. “James, darling--” he reaches out to gently tug at his chin so James will be face to face with him but James gingerly pushes his hand away, leaning away from him ever so slightly.

 

“I’m sorry I’ve killed in your name. Burned a town to the ground in your name--and in Miranda’s, for that matter. I’m sorry I’ve poisoned your endeavor to reform Nassau with atrocities I’ve committed to accomplish it. I’m sorry for not trying to go back for you, to take you with us when we left ten years ago. Miranda and I. And I’m most of all sorry for Miranda. Thomas, I tried to protect her and to give her a good life. I tried to give her closure, and--” he throat tightens, his voice cracks; He feels the guilt and the grief wash over him like the waves he’s spent the great majority of his life sailing upon. “I should’ve done better. Had I, she would be here with us now.”

 

Thomas stares, tears welling up in his own eyes. “She’s not here with us now...because she’s...she’s gone, isn’t she?” he asks slowly. Unable to find the strength to answer vocally, James simply nods. “Oh, James. It’s alright. Please, you cannot blame yourself. If anything, I should be sorry for putting you both in such a terrible position; for making you suffer as you have. Miranda did warn me, all those years ago, to be careful. I didn’t listen, and it led to our ruin.

“However, I have thought extensively about this over the past ten years and I have come to realize the futility in trying to assign guilt to myself or to anyone else and with your return to me, I have realized that regardless of the trials and tribulations, and all the suffering that ruin has bore us, we are here. Now. And we can start again. Miranda would never want either of us to be spending our days feeling guilty and bitter. I’m sure you know, somewhere in that gentle heart of yours that I am right,” he says, placing a hand over James’s chest. And then he leans forward until his forehead touches James’ and he stares at him as his other hand loops around James’ neck once more to keep him close. “For Miranda’s sake, I think that we should  _ live _ .” With that he shuts his eyes and sighs. 

 

James finds himself closing his eyes, as well, and placing his hands on either side of Thomas’s face. He takes a deep breath and slowly, he lets it out through his nose. He feels his heart begin the slow, laborious task of healing itself. With each moment that passes in Thomas’s presence and in his arms, he feels James Flint fall away. The years of loneliness, of suffering, of violent tests and trials of his soul begin to seep into the past. And like a man awakening from a lengthy slumber, the nightmare begins to fade from memory and this is only day one.

 

**xxx**

 

When he first begins to awaken in the morning, James doesn’t know where he is, only that it is not the gently swaying captain’s cabin of the  _ Walrus _ and that he cannot hear the sounds of the ocean anywhere. And then he registers the fact that he has his arms wrapped around someone and their legs are tangled up together. He feels a warm, calloused hand brush across his face, thumb stroking his cheek tenderly, and James sighs contentedly as he realizes who that hand belongs to and that the person he is wrapped up with in bed is Thomas Hamilton. At last. And it still hardly seems real, but the hand on his face is a continuous presence and slowly it begins to trail downward, tracing his jawline before brushing his neck and then lingering over his shoulder. It traces the freckles that are flecked across the skin there sending unbidden shivers of pleasure through him.

 

Thomas’s hand makes its way down James’ arm, feeling the muscles in his biceps, touching the scar or two that grace the skin along it. And then his hand roams back up to touch James’ chest and there it stays there, stroking languidly. James hums.

 

“I’d almost forgotten what you’d looked like. What you felt like,” Thomas softly says from somewhere slightly above him, close enough for James to feel his breath on the top of his head. Lazily, James tugs at Thomas’ waist to pull him closer and opens his eyes to return his gaze. “I tried so hard to remember, but I had nothing but memories to rely on and--and despite my best efforts I felt you slipping away.”

 

“I know. You had none of the aids I had to keep my memory or Miranda’s alive. I had the copy of  _ Meditations _ you had inscribed, the portrait of you and Miranda, and Miranda herself to remember you by. You had none of those things,” James replies. “But you didn’t forget, Thomas. I was so afraid you wouldn’t recognize me after all the years and after--after what I’d  _ become.  _ I feared that I would have to explain. I almost thought you didn’t know who I was, but then you began to smile. The relief I felt was almost crushing.”

 

“I have never been more happy to be wrong in my entire life,” Thomas says, and then pulls him into a kiss that is a little bit urgent and a little bit desperate, but still chaste and gentle.

 

When they break away, James smiles. “I only think it fair to mention that I have no intentions of leaving this bed any time soon, or letting you leave it either, for that matter.”

 

“Ah, good, cause I was going to tell you the same thing,” Thomas says with a laugh, wrapping his arms around James’ waist. James mimics him and then rolls off his side so he his laying atop Thomas with one leg in between his thighs. 

 

“I’m glad we’re in agreement, then,” he says, and then he lets his lips and his hands do the rest of the talking for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a personal headcanon that Thomas uses ALL the pet names, but James likes to stick to Thomas' name for the most part, and he says it like a prayer, with love and reverence and the utmost affection.
> 
> Let me know if you liked this by leaving a review and/or a comment! Comments always make my day, sometimes my week if they're detailed ones! Validate me.
> 
> If you want to talk Black Sails, come speak to me on tumblr, username is xavviers. I have too many feelings right now.


End file.
